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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860949">The Bite of 2018</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfboiii/pseuds/wolfboiii'>wolfboiii</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Fazbear's Fright, Gen, also fnaf 3 takes place in 2018 because i said so, graphic description of gore, i wrote this when i was angry and needed a vent, idk how to tag but this is really graphic tbh, so uhh proceed with caution</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:13:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,092</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfboiii/pseuds/wolfboiii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He's witnessed a deadly bite or two in his day. What's the harm in giving it the good ol' college try? This poor sod clearly wasn't using their brain for much anyway.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Bite of 2018</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been years since he'd had a proper visitor. He didn't tend to count the rats or the occasional bird. They weren't the most pleasant house guests anyway. No, this time it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>human</span>
  </em>
  <span>. An actual person. The first one he'd seen in over thirty years. And, unfortunately for them, his bitter heart was harbouring a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot </span>
  </em>
  <span>of pent-up emotions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cornering them in that little room was almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>easy. After all this time, he might have enjoyed a chase. Something to get their heart racing before he'd make it stop forever. But this would do. He could tell by the look on their face that he was already doing enough just by existing in their presence. Then again, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a rotten corpse in a filthy, seven-foot tall rabbit suit. Their fear was understandable. And he </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their reason for being here was negligible. Whatever their mission had been, it was over now. Spring had them well and truly trapped, cornered in the old parts and service room that had become his "home", so to speak. Their first mistake had been to come here. The second was trying to run past him in a desperate last attempt to flee.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He caught them by one arm in a vise grip, yanking them to be in front of him. He grabbed their other arm as well, keeping them still even as they screamed and kicked and squirmed. His sharp fingers dug into their skin, earning a nice howl of pain. Oh, he quite liked this. Just like the good old days. Listening to the screams of the innocent right before he killed them. Though </span>
  <em>
    <span>unlike</span>
  </em>
  <span> the good old days, he didn't have his trusty knife. Just a dingy old building that didn't offer much and an old animatronic suit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>… Hey, that sounded like fun. Doing it the tried and true animatronic way. His suit's jaw was certainly big enough for a deadly bite. Hm, perhaps for the throat at least. Worth a shot at any rate. He squeezed their arms tighter and yanked them closer, growling down at them like an untamed animal, just to spark a little extra terror into their heart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No no no! Please, please don't kill me, I'll go, I'll leave, just let–" Their pleas were cut short when Spring lunged forward without warning and bit into their exposed throat, clamping down as hard as his powerful jaw would allow. The arterial spray hit the back of his throat with quite a force. The victim's initial scream was cut short with an awful choked gargle. Spring ripped his head back violently, tearing their throat open wide in his clamped teeth. Blood poured from his jaw as he opened to let the flesh fall out. He tilted his head as he watched the human choke and desperately writhe in his grip, trying to jerk their shoulders free, while his hands held tight around them. Their wide, bloodshot eyes finally met his, and the pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear </span>
  </em>
  <span>in that expression made his whole body tingle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This. This </span>
  </em>
  <span>is what had fueled him all those years ago. Holding a life in his hands, knowing they'd be taking their last breath soon, and drinking in all of the terror as his victim realized this was it. This was the end. And his face was the last thing they'd ever see. Not a loved one, not even an acquaintance. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Spring tilted his head after a few moments. It was taking awfully long for them to die. Hm. Well, he could always try for the frontal lobe this time, just to speed things up. His animatronic jaw clicked and creaked as he opened it again, wide enough to fit at least what he was going for here. Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the old animatronic way. Right for the head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled them closer and struck again, this time clamping his jaw around their head. There was resistance at first, but the skull quickly gave way with a loud and satisfying crunch. This time he held on longer, feeling the last shudders of a dying soul shaking through his own body. When the human in his arms finally went limp, he released and leaned back to admire his work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not as big a bite as one of the original characters would have taken, but he'd still done quite the number. Their whole forehead was gone, nothing but a gaping hole leaking the grey goo that had been their brain. If only they'd used it to run from him when they had the chance. Pity. They probably would have made it too. Oh well. It'd been a fun little game while it lasted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few more moments of appreciation, he tried to close his dripping mouth and realized it had gotten stuck, the old springs locked and jammed with bone and brain. He grumbled and carelessly dropped the dead body so he could reach up, holding his jaw on either side and working his fingers into the rusty metal beams. A fair bit of wiggling later and it cracked back into place, good as new. Well… good as before, at least. He opened and closed it a few times, satisfied, then used the steel tips of his fingers to pick some brain out from his teeth. Ugh, he could tell this would be quite the chore. He'd been the one to do maintenance on the others whenever an </span>
  <em>
    <span>incident</span>
  </em>
  <span> would occur, and knew cleaning up was a long process.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took him a bit of effort to sit down, what with his rusty endoskeleton and broken servos, but he did, taking a seat by the sprawled dead body of his victim. Ahh, "victim". It was nice to have one of those again. It had been quite a while. Thirty years without a good murder. Time flies.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He went back to picking at his teeth, digging flesh and brain matter out from the aged cracks. As he worked, he glanced down to admire his job well done again, and spotted something that made his eyes light up with a literal glow. Right there, in the hidden inside pocket of their gore-soaked jacket… Was that a security card? He glanced outside of the room at the exit door just down the hall… and the little access control panel right next to it. A look of absolute pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>evil</span>
  </em>
  <span> manifested as he stopped what he was doing to merrily pluck the card from their jacket and stand up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Just when he thought today couldn't get any better…</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oof ouch that's a lot of gore mr. afton.</p>
<p>again, yea, this is short cuz it was a vent-ish thing but i'm actually quite proud of it, believe it or not.</p>
<p>also i dunno how to rate things, so idk if this should be in mature or not?? just wanna be on the safe side i suppose</p>
<p>POSTING TWO THINGS LIKE FIFTEEN MINUTES APART BECAUSE I CAN OK THANK YOU</p></blockquote></div></div>
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